


Garden of Shadows

by Zykaben



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Curses, Gen, Inspired by Hocus Pocus (1993), Mystery Elements, No Fear Entities (The Magnus Archives), Supernatural Elements, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27248635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zykaben/pseuds/Zykaben
Summary: The being currently known as The Admiral had been a cat for centuries, though he thinks he used to be human. The details are admittedly fuzzy, his memories worn away by time. For now, he lives alongside Georgie Barker, a witch who presumes him to be her familiar. It is a life he enjoys, a quiet one of potion brewing and afternoon naps.And then the children of the town begin to answer the call of a sinister song. One that seeks to lure them away and snuff out their lives. Georgie won’t sit idly by, nor will The Admiral.
Relationships: Georgie Barker & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, The Admiral & Georgie Barker, The Admiral & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39
Collections: TMA Spooky Gift Exchange





	Garden of Shadows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CadetDru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CadetDru/gifts).



> This was written for CadetDru for the TMA Spooky Fic Exchange. I leaned more into doing a Hocus Pocus inspired AU rather than a direct one-to-one of the film. I hope that you enjoy it!
> 
> Also huge thanks to [Bane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodsbane/) and [Osten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ostentenacity/) for beta reading!

He’d been human, once. At least, he thought he might have been. The memories he had of the distant past were hazy after years, decades, maybe even centuries. By now, he’d been a cat much longer than he’d been human, so it wasn’t a surprise that those memories were slipping away.  _ Had _ slipped away.

At least being a cat wasn’t the worst of fates. Not having proper hands was certainly a downside, not to mention the fact that he couldn’t actually  _ talk. _ His throat couldn’t move in the right way to make the right noises no matter how hard he tried, and oh, how he had tried. Still, it wasn’t all bad. Most humans tended to be kind to cats, and he’d yet to run into cruel ones that he couldn’t outsmart or outrun. All it usually took was a quick purr or a slow blink and then he’d be cooed at and pet and given food and offered shelter. He’d even had a few “owners” over the years, as much as he could be owned. They always had different names for him, but that was fine; he’d long since forgotten what his original name used to be.

For now, though, he was The Admiral. He was rather fond of the name, as well as the person who’d given it to him. Her name was Georgina Barker (though she preferred Georgie) and she was a rather talented witch. She seemed to be under the impression that The Admiral was her familiar, which, all things considered, wasn’t an unreasonable assumption even if it was ultimately wrong. He was far cleverer than the average cat and hadn’t aged a day since he’d first entered Georgie’s life. Funny how the consequences of his curse had aligned with common hallmarks of being a familiar. He didn’t mind, though. Georgie was a kind soul, not to mention an incredibly interesting individual. If all she wished was for him to fetch the stray potion ingredient in exchange for feeding, grooming, and caring for him, The Admiral was happy to oblige.

It was on a warm day as summer bled into autumn that the door to Georgie’s home slammed open with enough force that the echoing  _ bang _ caused both him and Georgie to nearly jump out of their skins. Georgie, thankfully, had finished brewing her latest potion not five minutes prior, so when she startled and cursed under her breath, no nasty explosions followed.

The Admiral had half a mind to rise from where he’d been sunning himself to claw at whoever thought barging into someone else’s home so rudely was a good idea.

And then Jon was coming into the room and The Admiral dismissed the notion out of hand (out of paw? Did those turns of phrase change depending on who was using them? It had been centuries and he still wasn’t sure). Jon was not someone that The Admiral wanted to hurt. Jon was smart and exciting and serious in a way that The Admiral couldn’t help but find endearing. There was also the fact that Jon always had the best treats and thanked The Admiral each time after he pet him, but The Admiral liked to think of those as perks rather than being formative to his opinion of Jon.

“Georgie! Listen, we need—”

“Jon? What’s wrong?”

The two of them had spoken at the same time, Jon cutting himself off as their voices overlapped. He seemed to take in the surroundings before his eyes widened. “Oh gods, I shouldn’t have ran in like that, sorry—”

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t doing anything dangerous, and if something has  _ you _ charging in this loudly, then…”

“Right. Yes, ah, it is… well.” Jon took in a deep breath. “Something is trying to steal the children in the village.”

The Admiral could barely hear Georgie’s gasp over the roaring in his ears, a chill shooting down his spine.

“I—what? A-are you certain?” Georgie asked.

“Yes, unfortunately. It’s—well, not  _ fine, _ but no one has been lost.” Jon paused. “Yet.”

“What’s—what’s trying to take them? How?”

“We… we don’t know.”

“What do you  _ mean _ you don’t know?”

“I mean they just—they seem to enter a trance and start to hum a song—the  _ same _ song—and then start to wander off. Thank the gods that there were adults around all the ones that fell under whatever bloody spell cast on them; they were able to stop them but… if they hadn't been there…” Jon shuddered.

Georgie looked fit to throw up. “And everyone is  _ sure—” _

“As far as I’m aware, everyone is accounted for,” Jon reassured her. “I talked with Daisy—you remember her, right? One of the town’s guardsmen?—and she said that no one has reported a child they couldn’t find. They’re going to start spreading the word soon about everything. Daisy mentioned organizing a watch of some sort to make sure no one gets hurt but I, ah, didn’t stick around too long. Had to make my way over here.”

Some of the pieces fell into place for The Admiral. Georgie was the only person in the town that had some affinity for magic, so it only made sense that Jon would run to her about something so obviously preternatural. A smart man.

Georgie continued to ask Jon questions—how long had the children been affected? How many? In what areas?—and The Admiral was sure to listen. This was grave news indeed, the kind of which he wished to never receive again. Beyond the disgust and the horror, though, there was something else. Something… almost familiar. He had no idea  _ what _ felt familiar or why, but it unnerved him a great deal.

“Could you—did you hear the song they were humming?” Georgie asked. “Could you hum it for me?”

“I didn’t hear it myself from the children, but Daisy hummed it for me when I told her I was coming to see you. It went like this.”

And Jon began to hum.

There were no words to the tune he shared, no hints of anything other than the notes themselves. Yet the lyrics burned bright in the mind of The Admiral, a song he’d known from ages ago, from something he could no longer recall.

_ Come little children, I'll take thee away _ _   
_ _ Into a land of enchantment _ _   
_ _ Come little children, the time's come to play _ _   
_ _ Here in my garden of shadows. _

Oh.

Oh  _ no. _

* * *

Georgie worked tirelessly to find out anything she could about the trance that had taken over the children: a cause, a solution,  _ anything. _ She’d managed to buy them  _ some _ time, though it wouldn’t work long-term. The amulets of protection she’d crafted did prevent children from falling under the trance that targeted them, but they took time to make and wore off in only a few days. Between researching and brewing the potion needed to craft the amulets, Georgie was only just able to distribute new ones as the old ones died out.

The Admiral stayed by her side the entire time through it all. There was not much he could do as he was, but he fetched whatever tool she asked for and helped her keep track of her potions and offered what comfort he was able to. Jon also helped her as much as he could, running all manner of errands for Georgie. He was constantly going in and out with ingredients she had requested, with what scraps of information he could get from other adults, or with an armful of books from the local bookshop.

“I’ll have to pay you back for these, once this is over,” Georgie said as she took the most recent stack from him. It sounded like a joke, had the cadence and delivery of one, but her tone was far too flat. The Admiral wasn’t surprised.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about that. I told the shopkeep what I needed them for and, well, he said that he was fine loaning whatever books we needed to help with the situation. Offered to help in whatever he could, too.”

Ah, the shopkeep of the bookstore. The Admiral knew him. A large, kind man by the name of Martin. Jon had talked about him before, though not to Georgie. Just to The Admiral. Jon’s face had darkened when he dared to speak of Martin’s kindness and his tea and his warmth and how it had made him feel. The Admiral was glad that the two of them still seemed to be getting along.

“Well, then I’ll have to pay  _ him _ back once all of this is over.”

A pause. Then, “Do you know—”

Georgie sighed. “I don’t know, Jon. I… I don’t know what this is or how long it will take to find it. I’m not—scrying and divination, those have never been things I’m good at. It’s always been potions and amulets, not something like  _ this. _ I don’t—I can’t—”

“Georgie.” Jon moved. He placed his hands on Georgie’s shoulders, waited until she met his gaze to continue. “You  _ can. _ I know you will. I promise.”

Georgie sniffed. She drudged up a watery smile. “You’re promising that  _ I’ll _ do something? You, you tosser.”

Jon’s eyes crinkled. “I know, I know. But now that I’ve gone and said it, you wouldn’t make me an oathbreaker, would you? Now you  _ have _ to do it.”

Georgie didn’t laugh so much as she let out a quick, sharp exhale through her nose. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I just don’t know what to  _ do, _ Jon. The amulets aren’t working and I don’t have the time or skill to make ones that are more permanent.”

“I know,” Jon said again. “But you’ll figure something out. I’m sure you will.”

The smile Georgie gave him was still strained, but it was sincere. “Thank you, Jon.”

“Of course.”

* * *

“Are you  _ sure _ this will work?”

“No idea,” Georgie answered honestly. “It’s a brand new potion, but it  _ should _ work. It’ll do the hard parts of the scrying for me, I just… need to concentrate on what I want to know.”

Three weeks since the initial attempted abductions had started. The town had changed almost completely, going from an open and friendly place to one that was suspicious and drained and terrified. No one slept well for fear of what would happen while they were asleep, and The Admiral did not blame them. It was terrifying and awful and throughout it all, the same niggling feeling of familiarity clung to it. He did not like it, not one bit.

But now, at least, they had something. Georgie, clever Georgie, had devised a potion unlike any The Admiral could remember hearing of before. Something that would allow her to gain clarity, to See. Or, at least, it was meant to.

“Can’t we test it?” Jon asked, his voice high and nervous. “Make sure it’s  _ safe, _ if nothing else?”

“No, we can’t. If someone without any practice with magic tried to drink this, then only the gods know what that would do to them. And we just… we don’t have the time, Jon.”

Jon opened his mouth. Closed it. Clenched his fists and looked down at The Admiral. He took a deep breath. “I know. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” Georgie promised. Whether or not that would be a lie was yet to be seen.

“… Alright. Good luck. I believe in you.”

Georgie smiled. “That’s the most powerful magic there is.” She shot Jon a wink and then threw the flask back, downing the potion as quickly as she could.

She wrenched the flask away from her face once she was done, taking in a gulp of air that quickly morphed into a cough, her face hidden in the crook of her elbow. Jon took a tentative step towards her but she was already waving him off without even looking up. Her breathing was a touch heavier than normal, but beyond that she appeared to be perfectly fine.

Then her arm fell away. The Admiral bristled, his spine arching and fur standing on end. Jon let out a gasp and stepped back.

Gone were Georgie’s pupils and irises, replaced instead with a glassy, opaline sheen that swirled where her eyes were meant to be. They shimmered and sparked like the sun rising over the sea, bright and vibrant and alive.

And so very  _ wrong. _

Her lips parted as she took in a ragged breath, the kind that sounded like it burned as it went down her throat. Her hands were shaking, her head bowed. If The Admiral listened hard enough, he swore he could hear her heart pounding.

Jon may have been frozen in shock, but The Admiral wasn’t. He darted forwards, pressing his body against Georgie’s leg as hard as he could and purring thunderously. He may not have been Georgie’s familiar, but he could still ground her, still give her something to hold onto so she wouldn’t be swept up in the magic. He willed for the magic that ensnared her to let her go, to be  _ done. _

He hated feeling so  _ helpless. _ He prayed to whatever gods were listening for Georgie to be alright, he just needed her to be—

He flinched when he felt a hand settle on his back. Craned his neck back to loop up.

Georgie was smiling at him, exhausted and still breathing hard, but normal and freed from the spell and  _ there. _

“Good boy,” she rasped out. “Such a good boy.”

When she scooped up The Admiral into her arms, he eagerly tucked himself against her and continued to purr.

“G-Georgie?” The Admiral couldn’t see Jon’s as he spoke, nor did he care to move away from Georgie even for a moment. He didn’t need to, though; he could perfectly picture Jon’s concerned expression.

“I’m alright, Jon,” Georgie mumbled into The Admiral’s fur. Her breath was warm and damp against him. “I’m alright. It was… it was a lot. But I’m alright.”

There was a pause and then a rustle of fabric and the sound of tentative footsteps. Then a warmth that pressed against The Admiral as Jon threw his arms around Georgie to hug her.

“Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again,” Jon breathed out. “I don’t think I’d be able to take it if you did.”

Georgie huffed out a laugh, dry but real. “Alright. But only for your sake.”

Jon chuckled in turn and pulled her closer. The Admiral was crushed between them. He would give quite a bit to stay like that for longer.

Eventually, though, Jon pulled away. Georgie loosened her grip on The Admiral, though he didn’t dare leave her hold yet.

“Did you… See anything?”

The Admiral felt Georgie’s chest rise as she inhaled deeply. “Yes. Not a lot, but enough. It’s—it’s evil, Jon. The kind of evil people love to tell stories about and hope to never see for themselves. And it… it wants to  _ grow.” _

“What do you mean, grow?”

“It just wants  _ more. _ More power, maybe? Strength? I don’t know. But it  _ wants _ and it’s very, very bad.”

Jon didn’t seem very pleased by that news. The Admiral wasn’t either. “R-right. And do you… know where it may be?”

Georgie closed her eyes. Took another breath. “It’s in the graveyard.”

“The one to the north of town? The one with unmarked graves?”

“Do you know of any  _ other _ graveyards I should know about?”

Jon let out a small  _ hmph. _ “Sorry for clarifying.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry. I’m still on edge.”

Jon nodded. “Perfectly understandable. Here, sit down. I’ll make some tea and then—”

“No.”

“… No?”

“We need to go. Now.”

“Georgie, that can’t possibly—”

“It’s trying to take  _ children, _ Jonathan! I can’t just sit her drinking tea knowing that, that  _ thing _ is going to entrance them and do whatever evil plan is has brewing and—”

“You’re right! You’re right. We need to act quickly. We can go get Daisy—”

“We don’t have  _ time. _ And she’s working to make sure no children get taken, isn’t she? We can’t pull the guards away from something so important. We just need to  _ go. Now.” _

“… Alright. Fine. I’ll grab my coat.”

As Jon rushed off to do just that, Georgie hugged The Admiral to her chest with renewed vigor. “It’s going to be alright,” she whispered into his fur. “We’re going to be alright.”

The Admiral hoped she was right.

* * *

The sun was setting by the time they reached the graveyard, everything around them cast in the warm tones of fading light. It felt at odds with the chill in the air and the fog of death that clung to the earth beneath their feet, and only served to further unsettle the three of them. Jon was tense, a string stretched as tight as it could go before snapping. Georgie looked determined, forging on ahead and brandishing her lantern, but even her steady pace faltered when they passed the first weathered headstone, time having worn away whatever writing may have once been there. Everything was still in the way that nature rarely was, but the atmosphere was charged, as if lightning would strike the ground before them at any point.

“… Now what?” Jon asked. “Where do we go?”

“I… I don’t know,” Georgie admitted. “I know it’s near here, though. But I don’t know precisely where.”

“Well. We better start looking, then.”

Neither of them suggested splitting up. The Admiral was glad for that.

While they walked, the same sense of familiarity that had been haunting him this entire time began to tug at his mind once more. Every time he tried to follow the thought back to its source, it vanished. But now, tail lashing and so close to whatever was trying to hurt the children of the town, he again tried to remember.

… Nothing. Typical. He hadn’t known what he’d expected, really.

And then the song began.

It was faint. So faint that he would have mistaken it for the sound of the wind if he didn’t know each and every note with unshakeable certainty. It was the same melody that the children hummed as they tried to walk away. The same song that he’d recognized instantly, even if he could not place it.

The Admiral turned, looking every way for something he could not name, could not even guess at. He knew he just had to find  _ something, _ that if he saw it then he would know where to go or what to do.

“Admiral?” Georgie was looking at him oddly. “Are you doing alright?”

He would be, in just a moment, if only he could find—

_ There. _

It hadn’t been what he was looking for but, there, where the edge of the graveyard met the woods, was a slightly worn footpath. He raced over, Georgie and Jon’s dismayed cries sounding from behind him. He hated to alarm them, but he had to check, had to know if they were real, if what he thought he saw was truly there.

It was. And it smelled of something rotten and drenched in magic and altogether too human.

When Georgie and Jon caught up not seconds later, he forestalled their beratements with a pointed  _ mrrow _ and looked meaningfully at where the grass had been trampled down.

“… I didn’t know there were any graves outside of the graveyard,” Jon said after a moment.

“There aren’t. None that I know of, at least. None that are marked.”

Jon and Georgie exchanged a meaningful look. They nodded at one another and followed the path, Georgie taking the lead. They did not speak and they kept their steps light.

The sun had fully set by the time they came upon a light not too far ahead of them in the woods flickered, yellow and warm. Georgie snuffed her lantern and they pressed forward.

The fire was in a clearing, burning bright and dousing the night in smoke. That is not what drew their attention, though. No, all three of them had their eyes locked onto the man who stood not too far away from the blazing fire, holding an open book in one hand and using a stick to draw symbols in the dirt with the other.

“Is that—is that  _ Elias?” _ Georgie whispered. “What the hell is  _ he _ doing here?”

“I have no clue,” Jon whispered back. “Last I heard he was still having a perfectly fine time with delivering the post. I didn’t know he could do magic.”

“He shouldn’t be able to. He has  _ no _ affinity for it. This doesn’t make any  _ sense.” _

The Admiral agreed with Georgie on that. He had been expecting something, that was for sure, but it certainly hadn’t been one of the townsfolk.

Elias turned his head. The light of the fire caught his face. His eyes glinted a sickly, glowing green.

A memory, buried by time, raged underneath the surface of The Admiral’s mind. He  _ knew _ that green, those disgusting eyes. He knew this place and he knew the song and he—

He knew—

_ This had happened before. _

He could not gasp as a cat, but he still felt as though he'd hit the ground hard and had all the wind knocked out of him.

This had happened before. The children being lured by the song of something evil that wanted nothing more than to drain their life force, the one who sang and his putrid magic and green eyes. But if The Admiral could only just barely remember that, then how long ago had it been? Decades?  _ Centuries? _

There would be time to ponder that later, though. For now, they had to do something.

“Can you make out the symbols he’s drawing?” Jon asked, voice feather-soft.

Georgie looked shaken. “Whatever it is, it’s not good. I can’t make it all out from here, but it looks like he’s trying to lay the groundwork for a ritual, and not a pleasant one. A lot of taking and draining from other energies. I can’t tell where it’s all directed but… there are some symbols there that are common in necromancy. I don’t like this, Jon.”

“I don’t either. What—what should we do?”

“… We stop him. Now. Before he finishes.”

“Are you insane?” Jon hissed at her. “We can’t just—”

“I’m a full-grown witch, Jon. And there are three of us and only one of him. Besides, Elias isn’t all that strong, we could—”

“Who’s there?”

All three of them froze, their attention dragged back to the clearing. Elias was scanning the trees for whatever it was that he had heard.

Except he hadn’t said it in Elias’ voice.

The voice was too confident, too smooth, too regal. It didn’t  _ belong _ to Elias Bouchard in the same ways the green eyes were not his. It was almost like… 

Like he was possessed.

“Oh gods,” Georgie breathed out, her words more air than anything else. “That’s not Elias.”

“You may come out now,” the thing possessing Elias said. He was still looking around the clearing. “Or don’t, if you wish. I’ve always loved an audience.”

Jon and Georgie glanced at each other. Other than that, neither of them moved.

“… Well,” the thing continued. “Alright then. Suit yourself. Enjoy the show.”

The thing possessing Elias turned his attention back to the markings before him. He then began to sing.

_ Come little children, I'll take thee away _ _   
_ _ Into a land of enchantment _ _   
_ _ Come little children, the time's come to play _ _   
_ __ Here in my garden of shadows.

The Admiral did not think. He raced into the clearing and lunged. Teeth sank into flesh as he bit down on the thing’s wrist. It let out a short, sharp cry and dropped the stick it had been scoring the earth with, the sound more surprised than pained. The Admiral wished it had hurt, that he had hurt this wretched monster.

The thing quickly shook him off, for fierce as he was, the strength of a single housecat was still no match for that of a human. The Admiral landed on his feet, but couldn’t manage to scramble away before the thing closed one of Elias’ hands around the scruff of his neck and slammed him into the dirt, pinning him there so hard he couldn’t breathe. The full force of its eyes burned into him.

“Oh, what have we here?” the thing cooed, all saccharine malice and haughty mockery. “A stray kitten who thinks he can stop me?” The thing laughed. “How pathetic. No, this is going to go differently this time. It’s going to go  _ my _ way. And then, once I’ve gotten a proper form of my  _ own _ once more, I’ll kill you like I should have  _ centuries _ ago and—”

_ Crack! _

The thing stopped mid-sentence, its face frozen before it went slack. It was perfectly still for a moment and then its eyes flickered, losing their green glow and returning to a perfectly mundane hazel. Elias’ unconscious body slumped over to the side, falling limply to the ground, the hand holding The Admiral down sliding off of him.

Standing behind the unconscious body of Elias was Jon, brandishing a heavy tree branch and looking the most surprised out of everyone. He snapped out of it quickly enough, though, knees hitting the ground hard and gently pulling The Admiral towards him. The Admiral went easily, leaning into the touch.

“Jonathan!” Georgie cried as she bounded towards them. “What was  _ that?” _

“W-well he was obviously going to hurt The Admiral!” Jon answered, sounding almost indignant as he fretfully petted The Admiral’s neck. “And besides, you’re the one who said we could ‘take him’ and didn’t want to get any of the guards. I was just following your plan!”

“Oh my  _ gods, _ Jon.” Georgie quickly turned her attention to The Admiral. “Are—are you alright?”

The Admiral pried himself off the ground and stood tall. He tried to shake the dirt from his fur to only minor success, but given everything else… it was a small price to pay.

“I was so worried for you,” Georgie said as she picked him up and cradled him in her arms. “Silly cat, what were you thinking?”

The Admiral didn’t know. He’d just  _ moved. _ And things didn’t make any more sense now, either. The thing had spoken like it had known him. Like they’d met before. Like this had happened before.

The Admiral had never hated his hazy memory so much as he did now.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Georgie said, her words pulling The Admiral from his thoughts. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d gotten hurt.”

“We should check him over, once we get back home,” Jon suggested. “Make sure he’s not hurt badly. I can run to the shop, too. Get him something nice for dinner for being so brave.”

“Jon, you’re going to spoil him rotten. See if the shopkeep has any fish, it’s his favorite.”

The Admiral let their voices and love wash over him. He didn’t have all his memories, but he had this. He had people who cared for him. Soon, they would work on picking Elias up and bringing him back to town and they would alert the guards of what had happened. Georgie would put up a ward and the townsfolk might be able to try sleeping normally once more.

They had time for the future. They were going to be alright. And, even if they didn’t, they’d have each other.

The Admiral couldn’t wait to get home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Please be sure to kudo, bookmark, and leave a comment if you enjoyed this fic!
> 
> The version of the song used here wasn't in the movie, but I really love the "garden of shadows" lyric and I feel like it fits Jonah very well, so I went with that instead.
> 
> You can find me [here on tumblr.](https://zykaben.tumblr.com) Feel free to hit me up there!


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